From The Refuge To Street Gangs
by Raggazzed12
Summary: Anyone who's anybody knows who Snyder is. Anyone who's anybody knows what the Refuge is. When Tom a.k.a. Kid Blink, lands himself in the Refuge, it doesn't help him at all. And when he busts out and gets involved with gangs, nothing goes as planned. *a bit angsty* *the origin story some of you asked for* *warning: language, mild mostly* *you read all this now read the story!*
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

**Author's Note: Well, since people wanted this, here we go into an origin story! I'm glad to know that people wanted something like this! IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ: In chapter one, Blink still has both of his eyes! I repeat: BLINK STILL HAS BOTH OF HIS EYES. Sorry, but it's terribly important that you know this. I own none of the characters at all, whatsoever, except maybe a few of them that are OCs and all but other than that, I don't own any newsies, or newsies characters!**

I sat up in the back of the carriage and stared out the old, dirty window at the old, dirty city streets that I had grown up on. I remember when I was little and would go out into the street and sit there with a little group of boys. That was when I was 7 or 8 years old. Now I was 13, and life hadn't been that nice to me either way, up, down, sideways, well, you get the idea. Now I was headed off to the Refuge, fearing all that I could have feared and more.

My father had been dead since I was a baby, but my mother hadn't and she disrespected me in any way she could find. I was tortured under her, not physically, but mentally, only physically when she felt the need to apply anything. So then I had gotten out of the house and run away only to be caught by Snyder after robbing a store.

Anyone who's anybody knows who Snyder is. Anyone who's anybody knows what the Refuge is.

So being stuck in the carriage with that horrible man right across from me was not something I enjoyed. He would look at me every now and then, staring at me, watching my every move, which was rare because I was hardly daring to _breathe_ more than worrying about _movement_. But he continued to stare at me, and when I would catch his gaze, I would hold it to its full glory, making sure I didn't blink. To blink or look away would signify that I was weak, the prey, and he was the predator, and I didn't need that on my mind as well.

When the carriage finally stopped, and Snyder got out, I almost remained there forever, but he took his cane and hooked my arm with it, pulling me out of the carriage. I could almost hear my mother's voice saying "Tom, if you wouldn't stop getting into so much trouble all of the time…." And then I stopped hearing her voice and heard Snyder's as he pushed me in through the gates and into the door of the Refuge. He unlocked it with heavy keys all the time telling me how it was going to be fine here and the streets were so much more dangerous.

But I knew as well as he did that it wasn't going to be fine here and the streets were loads less dangerous than this place. As we walked in, I looked at the dark, dank walls and the cobwebs that emphasized the hallway's width. He pushed me past the cells that looked like only real prisoners were kept in and up some stairs to a large room where I was forced through the door and shoved into it. Then he slammed the door behind me, leaving me with the rest of the boys that were in here. They were staring at me, watching me.

I moved off to the side and leaned against a wooden pole that was holding up a bunk bed. No one bothered to approach me, and if they had, I probably would have told them to shove off. My attitude had changed from angry to frustrated in a matter of seconds and either way I wasn't going to be nice to anyone who tried to ask me where I came from or anything else about me.

For that first afternoon, all I did was lie in one of the bunks that was obviously unoccupied and thought about my life and what was going to happen to me now. I was scared but I couldn't show it or everyone would think of me as a wimp, which was not something I needed in the Refuge. Snyder obviously thought I was tough for a 13 year old, now these guys had to think the same thing.

Food was served roughly around 5 and I only ate a little bit but that was mostly due to the fact that my stomach was uptight about this whole thing as well. If anything, I realized nothing was going to go well for a while now until I got out of here. When I headed back to the bed I had been in for that afternoon, I fell asleep almost immediately.

The sunlight that came in in the morning was dim because the window was so dirty but at least it was enough to wake me up. I lay there for a while, uncertain of what to do. Maybe I could get out of here soon, maybe someone would come looking for me. But that only begged the question of who on earth would come looking for me of all people?

The other boys got up faster than I did, and when I finally pulled myself up into a sitting position, I noticed that I was still getting stares from people. What the heck was wrong with these guys? They just couldn't seem to grasp that I was a newcomer and was stuck in the same position as they were. It was then that a boy who was obviously older than me walked over to me.

"Hey, kid, why ya in heah?" he asked me, in a kinder tone than I thought was going to come out of him, but I still was wary.

"Stole from a store, dat alrigh' wid youse?" I asked him, almost regretting answering that question but feeling as if this guy knew my problems.

"Same ting wid me, 'cept I ain't got nothin' ta go by."

"What's youse name?" was my only question since I needed something to call him by. "I be Tom."

"Kelly, Jack Kelly." was his slow and hesitant reply. "Dat's what I'm known as. Say, youse evah been in heah before?"

"Nah. Ise jus' ran away."

"Youse are lucky. I been heah before once, an' I don' like ta go ovah it again."

"Well, I ain't been outta me house much 'cause of me old lady." I said, defensively.

"Dis damn place ain't got nothin' for nobody, bu' youse are lucky ta have only been heah dis once. I'm 15."

"13, an' don't ask 'bout nothin' too private, alrigh'?" I said and nearly turned away from him, but he grabbed my arm, holding me back.

"I ain't gonna do dat. Ise was jus' gonna ask ya if youse evah hoid of bein' a newsie."

"Yeah, shore have an' I ain't interested, 'kay?" I replied quickly and got up, heading to the window to stare out at the sky before he got anything else out that was meant to ensnare me into another life.

Sure, I had heard of newsies. I had heard them all day in the tenant building I had lived in for most of my life. They would go out there screaming at the top of their lungs trying to get you to buy their papes. I had only been approached by them once, but that time I had told them to "get da hell outta me face" and walked away. I wanted to be a thief, not a newsie. I wanted to make people feel the way I had when my childhood had been stolen from me. But I had learned the hard way and there I was in the Refuge just because I had been attempting to do the thing I had wanted to become.

When Jack had mentioned the word "newsie" I had nearly gotten up right then and there and ran to the far side of the room. I didn't like that idea, I wanted what I wanted despite the fact that it had landed me here in jail instead of becoming rich off of other people's money.

It was then that someone walked into the room and everyone filed out, and I approached that someone who was a tough looking man with a sneer on his face. He grabbed me without asking who I was and holding the back of my collar took me down the stairs and got me into a room where I was obviously going to be put to work. He told me that I would be peeling potatoes and cooking other foods, I almost was relieved and thought that this would be easy. Then I saw the man with a whip in his hands and forgot about life being easy and painless, and got to work as fast as I could. Thus began my life in the Refuge.

**Author's Note: Well, that was chapter one and I hope you enjoyed it! Thank you for reading and please, review, review, review!**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

**Author's Note: Well, I'm back with chapter two! Thank you to coveredinbees14 and theater104 for reviewing! Glad to know this is good and that you enjoy it! I am excited to continue this story and slightly worried for the characters… but that'll depend on what I do here. Now I will get on with it…**

That first day was probably the start of one of the worst periods of my life, a time when hope was nowhere to be found and kids cried at night in the beds around me and men with weapons stood around. So when I had started my first job, I ended one part of my life and began another.

Sure, the man with the whip was threatening but I wasn't going to be a wimp and act like I was scared of him, because I sure as this horrible hole of misery, wasn't. It wasn't a thing I could be scared of or could pretend to. There was no way I was going to get hurt being a wimp and I couldn't be seen like that. So I walked on over to an empty stool and took up a knife and began to peel an apple that would probably not go to any of us, considering hunger was gnawing at my stomach and probably all of the other kid's stomachs in that room.

Jack wasn't there; thank God, but I was still kind of scared of being approached by someone like Jack who had a mind of their own that told them to befriend the new boy. I didn't agree. It was like being tortured, torn in two, because I couldn't decide what was best. My life was a complete mess, I had no way of telling people what had happened. I wasn't willing to do so, to anyone, ever again.

The day passed slowly and when lunchtime came we all received a loaf of bread that must've been three weeks old or so and a small glass of water and were told to continue working while eating. I had already witnessed what happened if you stopped working after one boy did, and his scream was quite loud and hysterical when the whip hit him, tearing his shirt and making him bleed. We had all looked away, and continued to peel and chop the apple we were on because we couldn't give in to the temptation of stopping. One girl had almost done so but then stopped because the man with the whip had glared at her.

When we were allowed out at the end of the day and sent into the dining hall for what I had decided to call "mush", at least, that was what the food tasted like. Everyone was silent that night, I didn't know why but because I didn't want to look like a newbie any more than I was already, I stayed completely silent and watched Jack, who was whispering to the boy next to him. I should've figured that guy wasn't going to follow the rules any more than I wanted to.

Bed was worse seeing as the boy's room was being watched by a thug with a metal chain in his hand and I couldn't dare look over at anyone or move my head once we had settled down to sleep without that man walking towards me. My thoughts as I fell asleep were not subtle at all, but violent and full of fights that I wanted to pick with the guards and other people who ran this place. This explained my violent dream that night that started with me falling down a whirlpool of darkness.

A voice echoed in my head, and it was saying stuff like "Order! Rules! Deceitful little boy! You are ungracious, uncaring, and most of all, a betrayer!" I screamed stuff back, in my head, saying "Liar!" over and over again as I fell down the darkness. My past followed me down the whirlpool and into a land of shadows where the same figure, the same silhouette, stood out to me as I walked along the darkness. Voices that I knew echoed around me, everywhere I was they were. I ran, crawled, walked, but it still followed me. I finally screamed loud enough to scare it away. My dream disintegrated and after that, I don't remember any other dreams that I had because my mind went into the mode where no dreams happened and sleep took over completely.

The sun coming over the horizon, though, when I opened my eyes, was a welcoming sight. No one else was really awake and I had time to stare at the roof of my bunk for at least five minutes before the man rang a bell and we all stumbled out of bed. I was led once again with a few others to the apple peeling room, and I began my work the same as the day before just with baking bread today. Once again, I knew only the bad loaves of this bread would be going to us. My life felt tedious, just like my past. Maybe I would get out and maybe not. Whatever the case, my mind had to switch over to the tortures of baking bread rather than thinking about my future.

The next few days went on like this. Jack didn't bug me again, in fact, no one came up and bugged me. Depression was grasping at me yet I couldn't let it take me down. At times life was hopeless and I would lie in my bed wanting to jump out the window next to me. I would bake bread and peel vegetables and avoid getting hit by a whip or a chain or anything, for that matter.

My body demanded food when I wasn't getting any and my mind demanded free time when there was none. My past lingered behind me, following my footsteps, like a dark shadow of mine waiting to grab me. And once more, depression followed me everywhere, holding onto my mind with a firm grasp, making me want to do something to get out of this position.

After a week or so like this, boys actually tried to get near me and ask me questions and try to tell me about their pasts and why they were here and how long they had been here and so on. Then I would just lash out at them and snarl in a way to scare them, if they were younger. The older ones wouldn't cry like the younger ones would sometimes but they'd glare at me. I now had a reputation that I knew wasn't going to help me. And yet, Jack still didn't approach me at all.

It was a long time before he did, but I knew the day was coming when he would, and it just so happened that that day was an evening after a day of finding myself cutting up whatever people handed me, and wanting to instead do so to myself. He approached me, wearing that hat of his with an expressionless face and I could see him just trying to find a crack in my invisible protective suit of armor that I had put up around me, my shell, my blocks. He sat down next to me as I stared out a window.

"So, ya thinkin' 'bout runnin' 'way, or what?" he asked me, grinning at my face which was probably looking whimsical and silly at the moment but it turned into a glare when I looked back at him.

"What, an' youse don't eider?" I asked him in reply, feeling remorse for those words the minute I saw a shadow pass over his face, though I wasn't sure why I felt sorry for him all of the sudden.

"Yeah, Ise do. Plent' of da time. Me boys, dey be worried for me, an' I nose dey are. Dey tried ta stop da cops when Ise was caught, bu' I told dem not ta worry, I'd be back soon. I gotta get back, bein' a newsie an' all, Snyder be worse ta me den anyone else, 'cause I been heah before." was Jack's quiet reply.

I didn't say anything else. He turned and looked at me.

"Why da youse scare da oders? What's dis tough act all 'bout?"

"Jus'… don' ask, I ain't in da mood. Maybe ya'd understand if youse was me, but you ain't an' dat's fact." I said, shaking my sandy blond hair out of my face, thinking about various other things rather than what he had asked me.

"For a kid wid such looks I ain't surprised dat ya ain't chase' by dese goils, dey always like da boys like youse. Blue eyes, blon' hair, an' a rebel… yeah, you jus' seem like da kinda fella dat gets da attention like dat. I got 'nough goils who try ta get me attention but youse got da upper han' in dat department. Ain't ya seen dem lookin' at ya?" he said, bringing up a topic that I was completely aware of but had tried to ignore. "Dey even talk 'bout ya. Ise hoid dem, during dinner an' all, when da guards ain' lookin'. Dey gonna try ya out sometime, an' dey tink youse are a precious piece of boyhood youself."

"Dat hardly makes sense. An' I know dat dey stare, I seen 'em." I replied, looking at him, trying to be okay with ignoring them.

"Then why da youse ignore dem? I ain't able ta, no boy can do dat withou' will power, I mean, dere are some beauts in dis place, ya know." he said, smirking at me.

"Yeah, Ise know. Look, can ya leave me 'lone for now?" I said. I had seen the thug looking at us, and I didn't want to attract any more attention.

Jack nodded and left, and I settled down and fell asleep. That morning, I awoke with the most brilliant plan I had ever had in this place, and that was to rebel against the thugs and other men around the area. I wasn't happy here and no one else was. I wanted to fight. My brain told me to, my fighting blood roared with the idea. But I dimissed it with the time being. It wasn't until later while peeling potatoes that I suddenly stopped and pretended to be staring at the wall. The thug with the whip spotted me and started coming over. A girl was watching me with fear in her eyes and some of the other boys seemed scared to see me, the only one who never gave in, give in. The man came over.

I wanted to feel pain, my depressed mind told me, and I had to give in. He hit me once with the whip and then I lost it. I had always been bad with controlling my temper but now it was payback time. I stood up and balled my fists, ready to punch the man, and so I did. He took the blow to his ribs surprisingly well but then had another one in his face that I delivered before he could hurt me anymore. Another man stepped out and as I hit the thug who had the whip, the man behind me knocked me down with a club. I punched him in the leg in a vulnerable place that I had used many times before on another person, which caused him to collapse. I should have guessed back-ups were coming because I had seen someone run out of the room, and the door opened to reveal a whole troop of men with two boys and Mr. Snyder in the front.

He laughed and I turned and faced the new group, feeling anger towards them. The two boys approached me and I punched one in the face and the other unfortunately punched me in the stomach, taking me out immediately. A blow to my head sent me unconscious, spiraling down a dark whirlpool into even more darkness.

**Author's Note: OH MY GOD, WHAT HAVE I DONE TO BLINK?! And he isn't even Blink yet, so… OH MY GOD, WHAT HAVE I DONE TO TOM? Well, anyway, I guess this calls for chapter three to be up tomorrow because you people will demand it, I know. So thank you for reading this unexpectedly drastic chapter and please review, review, review!**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

**Author's Note: Well, I'm back again! theater104: Thank you for reviewing, and I knew someone would demand it because in my own mind _I _was demanding it! Thanks again! Alright, I know last chapter was pretty drastic but this one will hopefully be better…. Nah, it probably won't be but don't worry, I will take care of Blink and make sure he won't go anywhere you don't agree with. Alright, I'll get on with it….**

The light caught me by surprise when I saw it, and it took me a moment to realize that I wasn't dying, I was alive, and stuck in a place that seemed like a corner, a cold, small, dirty corner. When I looked up, there was Snyder, glaring down at me, with a smirk on his face. My head was hurting and I could feel a bruise on my stomach where I had been punched. Snyder was holding something in his hand, a whip. I felt myself cringe into a smaller ball than I had been in, but my mind told me to be tough. I stared back at him.

"So, look where you are now. I'll just try to hit some sense into you now, because you'll be needing it." said he, and grinned evilly at me.

A man stepped up and turned me onto my back, and the whip fell for the first time, and I felt my skin rip as it hit me, the blood began to go down my back. It hit me again, and I resisted the urge to scream. By the fifth time, I could tell that Snyder was ready to kill me with glee. He would have if he wanted to.

"How's that? You want it again? I wait until you scream, then you'll be ready." Snyder said, growling. I felt the whip fall again.

Soon, I would have to give in, soon my body wasn't going to hold up anymore. My shirt was torn in the back, and my skin felt the same way. I couldn't understand why whips were needed here, but when the whip continued to fall, I screamed, finally, and Snyder laughed and hit me again, causing me to scream again.

"Alright, I'll stop, but you had better have learned your lesson." Snyder laughed, and I was dragged up the hard stairs and into the room.

Boys all around me stared at me as the man left me in the middle of the floor, the cold, hard floor, facedown. No one moved as the man walked out of the room, and when he left, no one continued to move. I could see all of the boys staring at me, at my back, wondering what on earth had happened. It was this damn place, and I hated it. My back hurt a lot, and it was bleeding, and I wanted to scream, to tell the world that none of this was fair.

I wanted to get out of this darn place, I wanted to get rid of everything that had happened, and get rid of the world of the Refuge. My mind was screaming about pain and the tolerance I had and the problems with the world and everything and why I was here.

It was then that I noticed Jack approaching me. I wanted to tell him to get the heck out of here, to get the hell out of my face and out of my business. He leaned down, kneeled down, and looked at me, as I stared at him from one eye because the other side of my face was smashed onto the ground.

"Youse 'kay?" he asked me. "Ise know how dis is, Ise felt it."

"Don't…don't try an'…an' do dat ta me. I ain't… ain't gonna take it." I said, glaring at him from my one eye, trying to be tough.

"Ise know, it ain't fair. I'll get ya to youse bed."

"No!" I shouted, and dragged my aching, bleeding body up into a slumped position.

I crawled towards my bed, and watched Jack stare at me, watching me with amazement. I felt more stares aimed towards me, and I knew that everyone was watching me. I pulled myself into the bed and lay facing upwards, letting my back bleed into the sheets, and it comforted my back. But it didn't comfort me. I was really angry at the world, and it was a stupid deal with life that I had made, somewhere, something had gone wrong. I had gone down the wrong path and was stuck here.

I lay in my bed until I fell asleep and then, when I did, I had dreams that were dark and shadowy and dangerous. My past was still following me, still haunting me. My dreams seemed dark. I only remembered that when I woke up. That morning, I woke up and stayed in bed. When the man came in to get us, everyone got up and left, or nearly did when Jack yelled at the man.

"He ain't goin', da youse 'spect 'im ta?" he said, angrily, pointing at me. The man nodded.

"Yeah, he is. Don't you try and say anything, now get out. And you too." was the man's reply, as he looked at me.

I stood up, feeling my scabs almost break apart and I felt a little bit of blood go down my back. I stood up straight, then, and walked, or struggled to, to the door and down to the area I worked in. That day, I sat and peeled apples and didn't stop at all. The man with the whip was watching me with pleasure. I at some point had to tear off my shirt completely so I could feel a cold draft coming in from the corner and I would shiver. I saw two girls watching me, with pity and interest in their eyes, because I knew they were looking at my body, pitying the bloody cuts on my back. The boys just looked at me like I was one of them now, in fact, I knew they thought of me as that. I had endured the test that everyone had gone through. They had all been injured by whips and stuff, I knew as well as they did. The boys were the ones who did, not really the girls who didn't dare stand up for themselves because they couldn't lose their shirts or anything else that they would most likely lose.

At the end of the day, I stumbled back to bed after a quick dinner, making sure I was there before the others. I didn't fall asleep fast, but when I did, I wondered what was going to become of me now.

The next week, I was recovering and working at the same things. My depression took a nosedive and I was trying to hurt myself more than ever now, but I couldn't. It was horrible. The world was tearing apart. Once my back healed enough not to bleed anymore, I wanted more pain, I wanted to do something, but I couldn't. Jack continued to try and help me but I wouldn't let him. He would come over, but the minute he tried to sit down I would glare at him and then ignore him if he continued and sat down, but he would leave when he saw I wasn't listening to him.

Then came the night I was in the room and only a few boys were present, the rest were eating. These guys were known for being tough, and once they saw I was alone, with them, they began to talk to me, threaten me with a fight. I didn't take notice of them, or willingly do so, until one stepped up right next to me.

"So, you are gonna ignore us, eh?" he said, with a thick German accent.

"An' Ise gotta pay 'ttention to ya?" I replied, and he grinned, and pulled out a switch blade.

"Yeah, you gonna."

"Ya tink so?"

"Yeah, yeah I do. 'Cause if not, this might hurt." was the sly, cold reply. "You ain't got a switchblade, do you?"

"Nah, but ya know, Ise ain't a coward ta hide behin' one eider."

"Watch it." said the boy, coming up and putting his knife across my neck. I grimaced, not wanting to give in but feeling the cold sharpness of the knife.

"Alrigh' den, I'll fight youse." I said in frustration, glaring at him with an extremely strong dislike and felt my body begin to tingle with excitement of something active.

The boy moved away from me and stood across from me. He still had the switch blade but I didn't care, I wanted to hurt him, I wanted to fight. I punched him in the upper lip, making a tooth fall out and his mouth began to bleed. He tried to stab me but I moved away with speed that wasn't going to last forever but in that moment, I had to believe I could get away from him. I hit him with force on his knee, and he bent down. Taking the advantage, I hit him over the head, or tried to, but I couldn't because he came up, hitting me straight in the jaw. I fell over, and taking his chance, he came and stood over me, ready to plunge the knife into my arm. I kicked him in the stomach and he fell right on top of me, but the knife moved towards my face as he landed on top of me. Suddenly searing pain went straight through my head, and I for some reason was only seeing out of my right eye. The other one was…I lifted up a hand and felt a bloody eyesocket, but for some reason, my eye wasn't there. I suddenly went unconscious.

The first thing I detected was noise. My head was going through sheer pain and I couldn't understand how I was alive. When I opened my eyes, and then I realized, it was only one eye that opened. I couldn't seem to find the other one. The light above my eye was bright and I flinched, trying to get away from it. A voice, Jack's voice, spoke above the rest, and I tried to listen to what he was saying.

"Tom?" he asked. Well, that was helpful. I didn't know why he would say that, but I groaned as my head gave another shock. "Tom, you are awake, right?"

I couldn't nod. I couldn't feel my other eye. Why couldn't I? Even though it had only been bloody, surely it wasn't ….gone? There was no way… no way. It had to still be there. I couldn't have lost it. Why would I have lost it? There was no possible way…and then it hit me. The knife had taken out my left eye, and now I only had one, all because that stupid oaf fell on top of me. My anger and pain mixed as one, and I let out a scream of ignorance, a scream that had pain in it and anger, one that attracted most everyone's attention because most everyone was in there. I knew they were. I saw Jack look around, but for some reason, I couldn't tell if he was close or not, he seemed far away…

But in the next minute, I decided he was closer to me because I could almost hear him breathing. My sight wasn't giving me much help, in fact, I couldn't tell if anyone was far away or close. When another boy appeared next to Jack, I was quite sure he was up in my face. This was going to have to take some getting used to, and I started to become quite afraid for what was to come. But that wasn't the worst of all that I was feeling. Pain raced through my head, my brain seemed to be rebelling against whatever had happened, my skull screaming. I found that I could see someone's face and then, all of a sudden, I couldn't.

**Author's Note: Well, SUSPENSE, people, SUSPENSE, has come your way! Alright, well, that was chapter three, and I hope that you enjoyed it and please, take the time to review because I am grateful to the people who do but there aren't many that do so… so please the others of you,(and the ones who have, do again) review, review, review! **


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

**Author's Note: I'm back! Yay! Except for the fact that only one person reviewed the latest chapter…but thank you, theater104! I know, I've hurt him pretty bad…but don't worry, I'm going to get him out ...some day! Alright, well, I'll go on with the story…**

I saw light, a bright light, in my face, why was it there? Then I realized it was a candle being held, and it was a few feet away. Why had it been so close? Why was it at the proper place now, yet for some reason, I couldn't tell at first? It was the loss of my eye. I knew it, all of a sudden. And I couldn't think very easily because my head was in so much pain. I could barely see Jack's face.

"Tom?" he said, slowly. "Are youse 'wake?"

I nodded, just barely, trying to stay as still as possible. How was I going to survive like this? Blood covered the right side of my face, and I felt disgusting. It seemed to be nighttime, and everyone else was asleep. Jack was the only one sitting next to my bed, and he looked worried. I didn't want to be the result of his sleep loss considering I really didn't give a damn about what he thought or said.

"Ise know dat youse don' really wan' me heah, bu' dat's what da guard said. He don' wan' youse dyin' or nothin' on his time an' he ain't gonna watch ya, so's Ise gotta do it 'stead." Jack explained, looking at me with a concerned face. I could hardly see it but from the bit of it that I could see, I knew he was worried. "Youse gotta lotta blood on youse face an' all. Dey migh' make ya work tommorro' bu' ise can' prevent dat."

I only nodded again, then felt myself drift off to sleep. When I awoke, the pain in my head had gone but the hole where my eye was still had a lot of blood on it. The sunlight was alarming to feel and see and I wasn't sure about whether or not I wanted to stay in the now or if I wanted to just go back to sleep. But then the guard yelled at us to get up, and I opened my eye all of the way. God help the man who might try to drag me out of bed, because if they did, I wasn't going to be kind to them.

No one came to my bedside while everyone was filtering out. Not even Jack. Then everyone was gone, and I thought I was alone. But the guard appeared next to me, looking not at all concerned for me. He even looked a little grossed out but his face rarely had an expression, and I knew that he had seen similar horrible things. I could see him but I knew now that my depth perception was basically gone and I was going to have to adjust to this new, strange way of seeing the world.

"They say you got this way in a fight, eh? Well, the boss still wants you to work." he said. I froze, ready to murder the man if he came over and tried to drag me out of bed, but his bearded face stayed where it was. "I will let you stay here today, but I can't promise you anything about tomorrow. Mr. Snyder says a one eyed boy would be completely useless, and you might as well start packing 'cause you'll be out on the streets by tomorrow, if you're lucky, maybe two days from now."

The man moved away and I stared at the roof of the bunk. So I was being thrown out because I had one eye. Actually, since I'd wanted to escape this damn place since I'd gotten here, it didn't sound bad. I wanted very badly to do so now, and the streets weren't terrible, I knew how they were. I had lived on them for a short time. If you knew where to find food and people who would give you money, you were fine. But now I might be stalled by having one eye and people might not take it so kindly, in fact, some might be scared. I didn't know how I would live if people didn't come near me. Then an idea dawned on me. An eye patch. That's what anyone with one eye wore, and although people could have their suspicions, most of the time, no one bothered with questioning the person and would accept them into society. That was the only way I could survive.

So as I lay there, wondering how the day could go any longer, I kept hoping that I would find material for an eyepatch somewhere here. I didn't know how and didn't want to think about how I would get one, I just needed one badly and that was all I could do for myself. Finally, at the end of the day, when my head had stopped hurting completely, and Jack came over, I was ready to ask him for a favor.

"Youse know how…ta make a ….a eye patch?" I asked him, looking him dead in the eye.

"Yeah, Ise tink sos." he said, looking slightly confused.

"Ise need one." I said before he could ask why I was asking him this. "Dey's gonna….kick me out."  
>"Dey can't! Ise mean…Snyder ain't gonna do dat!" said Jack, looking amazed as I nodded. "Well, I guess if ya gotta, Ise will."<p>

I didn't talk about anything else with him for a while, and eventually he must've given into the idea that I was going to be gone and went to make the eye patch. I was grateful that he would do this but in all due respect, I really needed to reconsider this whole arrangement. I mean, although I knew I had to, I wasn't sure why I was or what I was going to do once I got out of there. I also needed to wash all the blood off of my face, or otherwise, things might not go so well.

So I stumbled out of bed and walked to the washroom, almost gripping the wall as hard as I could because I knew the way there but everything was out of focus. No one really noticed or they just didn't care that I was moving about, but once I made it to washing room and got in there, I knew that I was going to have to be careful about anyone else being in there. A small piece of mirror hung on the wall, right above the basin full of water, and I hardly dared look in it considering I knew what I was going to see.

I reached down and cupped water in my hands, splashing it onto my face and trying to scrub off the blood that wasn't coming off easily. Once I finally got it all off, or at least, every drop that wasn't in my eyehole, I headed back out to the room and sat back down on the edge of my bed. Jack came over and handed me a brown string with a patch on it. It looked very nicely made and my confused face as I handled it tipped Jack off that I had no idea how he could have made something like this.

"Ta tell da truth, dat ain't handmade, some ol' mate of mine in heah said he had it for 'is own eye when he sold papes an' pretended to be handicappe' an' all, jus' ta get pity. Dat ain't da right way ta live, but 'least he had it." Jack explained, and I nodded, knowing now why it was like it was, all nice and damn finely made.

I adjusted it onto my head and got it at a good place, then looked at Jack, still seeing him through a strange angle but I knew he wasn't as close as I was thinking he was right then and there.

"Thanks." I said, and then looked around. Everyone else was talking in groups or pairs, the way the world here in the Refuge usually worked. I didn't want to be here any longer, freedom sounded better.

"Ya know, Ise tink dat guard is gonna get ya outta heah on a free pass. Ise aske' anudder one and he hit me wid a bat. You ain't gettin' outta heah on Snyder's orders, dat's for shore." he said, and I stared at him.

"Ya mean dat Ise getting outta heah because dat guard is gonna jus' get me out?"

"Yeah, dat's what Ise said. Ise tink he knows dat youse ain't gonna be able ta do much, and he seemed ta pity ya more dan any oder adult heah evah did." Jack said, staring at me, looking so honest I was ready to cry with relief, which of course, I never wanted to cry in front of anyone and wouldn't allow myself to.

"Ise…dat's 'kay wid youse?"

"Yep. Ise gonna get outta heah soon, Ise can feel it."

I stared at him, then propelled my legs onto the bed and lay down. Jack left the bedside, and I didn't know what to think for a few seconds. Then I drifted off to sleep, after taking the eye patch off, of course, and morning came faster than it ever had. Jack was right next to me when I woke up, shaking me awake.

"Come on, youse gotta get outta heah 'fore da oder kids leave for work." he said. I sat up, stuck the patch onto my face, and stood up.

Jack led me over to the guard. Finally, I was getting out of this rotten damn place, and I was doing it faster than I had expected to. The guard smiled at me and slowly unlocked the door. Jack was behind me. I turned towards him, looking him up and down, and then he spit into his hand and held it out. I did the same and shook his outstretched hand, then smiled.

"Ise wish ya luck on gettin' outta heah, Kelly." I said, and turned away, following the guard down the stairs to freedom.

**Author's Note: That's chapter four! Well, things got a bit better, but I think a lot of that has to do with the fact that freedom is coming for Tom, at least for a little bit. Then it's gang time, but that's in the next chapter, and I don't want to spoil anything….'cause I haven't written it yet! Thank you for reading, and please, I beg you and implore you (even though that basically is the same thing twice) to review, because it'll make this story better! So please, review, review, review!**


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